Remember Me
by Dark- Cherry Angel
Summary: Tala witnesses death. Oneshot.


_It changed with the wind, with the season. They face the one night which determines the lives they'll lead. Remember Me because I'm all you have left. _

**Changes with the Season, Remember me. **

His breathing quickened as he awoke with a start, the beginning of autumn was always a nightmare in Russia, the winds, thunder, lightening and rain. He could feel the change in the air, it was different, everything. Usually he would be pleased with the weather, not liking summer and the hot weather it usually brought. Looking through the window of the small house he could see the Altai Mountains and the foreboding sky overhead, no stars to guide him this night.

"Did you feel it to?" a soft voice rang through the air, her voice melodic that a singer should own, not his sister. He looked up and nodded, his bangs escaping past his ears and into his impassive eyes, "I couldn't sleep because of it," she bit her lip and moved from on foot to the other as the soft breeze from he window flew past her.

"Well you should try." He replied sitting up. He watched her shrug and then look at her tiny feet; she was only eight and he ten. They were unusually smart for their age; he was good when it came to numbers and she was good at reciting poetry, telling stories and singing. They grew up a little away from the major cities in Russia, a little away from Moscow and just near enough to see the peak of the Altai Mountains above the clouds.

Biting her lip she played with the fraying hem of her nightgown, her hair falling past her eyes, "I'm scared Brother," she mumbled, a tear slipping past her eye and onto the floorboards.

"Why?" He asked curiously. Being a brother he should have be comforting but he was more curious, he didn't exactly learn to be comforting.

"You felt it to Brother; Mother says that if you feel a change in the air it's usually going to be good or bad. Mother said that a good change would have less wind and more stars; she said we'd be able to see the mountains. A bad change usually had strong wind and you'd feel all tingly. I feel tingly Brother."

He pushed the blankets off his legs and walked towards her; shyly he placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned down to look her straight in the eyes. "You'll have to be brave if it's a bad change, can you do that for me?" he asked, smiling reassuringly.

"I-I can," she replied breathily, her eyes wide at her brother actually caring so much as to get out of bed and to comfort her. "I can do it for you Brother because I love you," she said quickly. Pouting she then bit her lip, "what about the monsters?"

"What monsters?"

"I hear voices at night talking, sometimes outside my window or just outside the door, sometimes even from the closet. They scare me."

"Monsters don't exist-"

"I told them that but they said they were real."

"Don't be silly," his grip tightened as he began to wonder about her sanity. Anastasia never used to talk such things, of course her imagination was a little out there at times but monsters talking to her, voices in which they replied to things she said…it was strange.

"Don't you believe me?" Anastasia tilted her head to the side and allowed her big eyes to memorise her brother's feature, wondering what he was thinking in the brilliant brain of his.

"Monsters, Anastasia? I'm too old to believe nonsense like that," he replied softly.

"You're only ten-"

"Father said I was a man now."

"And mother says I'm a woman," her voice was innocent but she looked thoroughly hurt, "if you don't believe me it's alright Brother I understand. I must sound strange." She closed her eyes as another cold breeze entered the room, the presence of that unfamiliar change stronger than ever. Seeing her bracing herself against the cold he stood in front of her, pulling her to his chest.

She looked up and watched as many emotions travelled through he beautiful face. Obviously he was confused; she knew he didn't really have experience being kind and a hero to her. She always admired him, he was brave and strong, he protected her and made sure she was alright be as he may uncomfortable. He was her older brother and she hoped she could be just like him one day. Her hand went to his face, tracing the contours, "what're you doing?" he asked amused.

"I'm tracing your face; Mother says that you won't remember someone by sight because those memories are always going to be forgotten. You have to use all your senses, um…touch, sight, smell and hear and…and…" she face screwed up as she tried to remember the last one.

"Taste?"

"That's it!" she giggled like the child she was and then reached up again to touch his smooth face, "you smell like Mother's garden," she nodded her head definitely and then tilted her head, "I'm sure I won't forget you now."

"How do you know how I taste?"

"Because remember that time when we were fighting and you ripped the head off my dolly and I bite you?" He nodded his head slowly, "well you didn't exactly taste nice…" he chuckled and then stepped back.

"You make me laugh Anastasia," he smiled proudly at her and then ruffled her long hair, "but it's late and you better get to bed, Mother will wonder why you're tired."

She nodded slowly and took a stiff step outside his room, "goodnight Brother," she closed the door leaving her brother in his chill room, alone.

A bloodcurdling scream made him gasp and he ran out into the hallway, upon seeing the younger girl moving slowly out of her bedroom, seeking the wall with her hands he walked towards her, asking questions. Her eyes were wide and her face far paler than usual, no cheery smile, no question in her eyes.

"Anastasia?" Stepping forward tentatively he heard voices, male voices that were speaking rapid Russian, they understood every word.

"She's a seven year old and you couldn't even knock her unconscious-"

"You saw me try; she's faster than the woman-"

"She's seven!"

Kneeling down he beckoned to his sister, hoping that the two males were too deep into their argument to notice her disappear. "Anastasia," he whispered, beckoning with his hand, "Anastasia, move slowly towards me." He noticed her look his way and the slick nod of her head, he watched as she carefully and daintily moved towards him, her eyes never leaving her bedroom.

When she was close enough he grabbed her hand and ran to their mother's room but the bloodstains on the floorboards stopped him from going any further and change directions. They backtracked to his bedroom where he carefully lifted her through the first storey window; he threw her slippers out after her and then followed.

"Hey! You two! Come back here!"

Despite the cold they ran for it, through the chilly wind. "Why didn't we get Mother?" She cried clutching onto his hand as they ran towards town.

"Because she wouldn't be able to help us!" He replied, he felt the tears prick at the back of his eyes, he already knew their mother's fate. Dead. They ran through the town but of course no one would be up at the current time, late as it was. Noticing an alley he ran into it and pulled the girl in close to his heart, watching the two cloaked men run pass.

"What are we going to do?" She asked softly, trying to catch her breath and maintain some warmth. Both their cheeks were flushed from the running and the cold, their noses runny and their eyes watering. His feet were bleeding, not having enough time to wear any slippers.

"We'll run to the mountains, hide in a cave and wait until the people realise we're missing," there was no flaw to that plan because people were constantly coming into and out of the house.

"What do they want Brother?"

"I-I don't know," scenes of the blood on the floor ran through his mind and then he looked at her angelic face, "but we better go now."

"Promise you won't get hurt."

"I won't get hurt; I'm your older brother." She nodded numbly and then gripped his hand, "ready?" he sneaked a peek around the corner, "lets go," he whispered and they began running towards the mountain, the moon lighting their path.

It was a long run, both dangerous and slippery from the rain, the rain that had just started to come down in buckets. Once inside the cave Anastasia curled up in a ball and stared at the rocky wall. Her arms and legs had minor cuts but her brother sustained the worse injuries. His face had cuts; his back bruises and his feet sore and cut form the sharp rocks, the rain had smooth his hair to his head. Annoyingly it kept falling in his tired but alert eyes. He was pretty sure they were still being pursued, that feeling of change and suspicion in the air.

"Anas-" he turned around and noticed that the young girl had fallen asleep against the wall, her eyes closed and her breathing still raspy. Smiling a little he settled beside her and ran a hand through his little sister's hair, his fingers getting stuck in a knot.

"They were the monster's voices Brother," she whispered fuzzily, "they talk from outside the windows and always wonder about us."

"Are you scared?" He wouldn't admit it to her but he knew he was, he was terrified of the outcome, would they survive or would they die. Either way he had to protect his sister.

"I'm not scared because I want to be just like you, brave," she sighed and snuggled in deeper. He bit his lip and shifted awkwardly, if sister had no idea that he wasn't as brave as he seemed to be. It was an act to be impassive to not show emotion, to be strong. It was funny, he wanted to be like his father and she wanted to be like him when in truth she was like their mother.

Awakening he sat up and looked around, Anastasia was already about playing with a bunch of rocks and supposedly trying to build a castle. "Morning," she replied, happy to see someone else awake.

"Morning," he nodded his head and then stood up, "where'd you get the rocks from?" noticing that hardly any rocks were inside the cave, he became curious, he hoped she didn't go outside.

"Outside," he growled low in his throat but calmed down before he did anything rash, "no one was out there Brother because I couldn't see them."

"If you can't see something it doesn't mean it's not there at all," he feared they were being watched, like last night when he dreamt of all the possibilities and strategies that the men could have found them.

"I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter you're only a child," he whispered, looking out of the cave opening the sun shone happily on them, not fitting for the mood. The clouds were just above them though, it was a beautiful sight.

"I'm not a child Brother," she replied, "I'm a woman, like Mother said remember."

"Well…women can't protect themselves, they cook and clean, the men have to look after them." He said definitely.

"But I can fight, you taught me."

"You're a woman now, you don't, not anymore."

"Hmmph," Anastasia crossed her arms over her chest and then stomped outside, "I'm going to the town it must be safe now." She screamed when a hand grabbed her and clamped a hand around her mouth, struggling she tried to pull the hand off.

"Anastasia!" He cried running forward but then stepping back when a gun was held towards his head. The man with the gun was the bad guy and his sister was the damsel, he was the good guy, and the good guys always won…right? Growling he stood to his full height and then glared "let go of my sister!"

"She's a silly child for coming outside alone," he had purple hair, that was noticeable from under the cloak and he had goggles wrapped around his neck.

"Let go of my sister or – or I'll h-hurt you!" He put up his fists to prove his point and got into a fighting stance.

"Brother! Please!" Anastasia got free from the hand over his mouth and looked at him, her eyes penetrating his.

"Sibling love…how precious," he shook the hood off his head and smirked evilly at the young boy. "You see you're father is an important asset to our facility and we've seen your skills with a blade, we made a bargain. Voltaire said that he wouldn't harm the girl if you came with us and here we are, I can supposedly drop her off the cliff or let her go freely…if you come with us." He inched the girl towards the cliff's edge making the girl in his arm kick and scream.

The young boy made a move forward and then stepped back when he watched the grip loosen on Anastasia's waist, "please," he cried softly, his voice breaking, "I-I can't come, we don't have a mother anymore and if I go who will look after her?"

"She could always come with us," his voice was silky smooth; trying to reassure him everything would be alright that he was telling the truth.

"And where are we going?"

"To place called the Abbey."

"Will we be safe?"

"Yes, most definitely."

"Don't trust him Brother, please don't, I don't want to go with him!" Anastasia landed on her feet when the man holding her let go and she could run to the ten year old. She hugged him tightly and buried her head in his chest. "Don't, please don't."

"I have to, for your safety. You won't harm either of us will you?"

"No," the purple haired man replied, "I wouldn't lay a hand on either of you."

He thought long and hard, for the safety of his sister and to be with their father. He didn't know what they truly wanted with him but he was sure it had to do with blading. "We'll go!" Anastasia began protesting when another man, brown hair came up behind her and grabbed her around the waist and how another man came behind her brother and dragged him out of the cave before her.

"Finish the girl off," when the purple haired man had a strong grip on Tala's wrist he nodded his head in confirmation to the other. "Make sure to hide any traces of her dead body." Tala screamed and tried to lunge forward only resulting in him landing on his arse in the muddy earth. He was crying and he kept fighting to get near the young girl, the only family he probably had left.

Anastasia screamed and cried, reaching out for the red head that kept falling onto his arse, "Tala! Please! Help me! Tala, I'm afraid!" The gun point was at her temple now.

"Anastasia," the bang shook him, left him blank as he watched his sister get thrown over the edge of the cliff. Her extremely long hair flailing around her body and her lifeless blue eyes the last thing he would ever remember. He can't remember her smell, her taste, what she sounded like and what she felt like. To this very day he can only remember the lifeless eyes and wonder, who? Who was this girl that plagues his dreams?

**Ok that's that story, hope you didn't get sick with the lack of word choices and stuff. I couldn't think of another word for his/her or anything because I didn't want to give away who the characters were. I hope you like it. I just imagined that was how Tala was taken or something. Review. It'd be real nice. **


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